Slow Down. What’s Your Hurry?

Hi blogging friends and family,
I’ve had a busy week. Too busy, which is ironic because, well, you’ll see below. Deadline week pressure, and Kitty #3, Penny, had oral surgery to remove a mass on Monday. Results tomorrow. Fingers crossed. (Deep breath…)
Hope everyone is well and enjoying spring–or autumn–and the change of seasons. I recently had an essay published in O. Henry magazine, and thought I would share it with you. This story is special to me; I’m proud to have it published. Thanks for reading it.

  In late winter I watch in anticipation for the pointy maroon tips of our native Erythronium umbilicatum leaves to push up through the hard winter soil. I run outside to my garden several times a day—looking, feeling, hoping.
            After the leaves emerge and unfurl, you can see the reason this plant’s common name is trout lily. The brown and green mottled leaves look similar to the markings on a brook trout. Not only is this a sweet little North Carolina wildflower, but it is also a tangible, seasonal reminder for me to slow down, take one day at a time, and try not to rush through my life in a hurry to go on to the next big thing. Let me explain…

To continue reading the story click the link to O. Henry below: 

http://www.ohenrymag.com/botanicus-7/

 

IMG_2197Erythronium umbilicatum, aka trout lily, aka life lesson

 


45 thoughts on “Slow Down. What’s Your Hurry?

  1. Cheryl, I can’t wait to read it (printing because of migraine stuff)! Congratulations!!!! My fingers and all limbs and digits are crossed for dear Penny and her recovery. Sending hugs and love!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I lay down on the couch with a cup of tea and your piece. I hadn’t even set eyes on your piece yet and woke up at 3AM with the full cup of tea sitting there glaring at me.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Oh YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wow, I am so glad to hear that! What a relief! I’m happy for you both. SO. I read your essay. Absolutely beautiful! I loved it. You drew me in, I wanted the flowers for my garden, and then I didn’t want because of it being one of the last times you saw your sister. So heart-breaking. I’m so sorry, Cheryl.

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  2. I’m sure I’ve read this before Cheryl – but familiar as it is still it brings me to inner silence and a tearfulness. It is beautiful and heartfelt and oh so true. Barely an hour ago I sat quietly and thought through these very issues, looking into my own state of being and asking myself why don’t I make every moment count – it will be over too soon. I think our ego cannot conceive of its ending or at least not until everything is tidied away and done with – and so procrastination comes into play ensuring that we will never get there. Except we do.

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    1. Dear, dear Pauline, thank you so much. It means the world to me that you remember this story. I posted an earlier-similar version years ago. I agree with you about the ego’s role in all of this busyness and putting off today… Do you know Steven Pressfield’s book The War of Art? It explains that phenomenon so well. Its been really helpful to me lately. Thank you, again. ❤️

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      1. I’ have heard of it, but not read it – I have a bit of anathema to anything with ‘war’ in the title …. Should I put that aside and read it anyway? I am deeply touched by this essay of yours, and your relationship with your sister. And the plant of course 🙂 xo

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Well, I do understand that. War has done the world so much damage, and is an ugly word. But the book has been really helpful to me for explaining why I don’t do the thing I most love to do—my writing, my art, my dharma. At times, it sure does feel like I’m at war with what he calls resistance, or ego. Maybe just check it out and see if it appeals. 🙂

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  3. Beautiful story, and so touching in many ways, Soul Sister. Congratulations, too, on its publication — a worthy reminder for so many of us. I do not have any trout lilies in my garden but something tells me if I lived closer, you would put some in a zip lock baggie for me too. Nature teaches us so many things…the answers really are all here. Warm wishes. Happy Spring!

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  4. I’m glad to hear that it was good news from the vet Cheryl. Congratulations on the publication of your essay – it is very beautiful, it left me touched and with a tear in my eye. I agree that we learn how the small things are the big things. Glad to see from the comments that your patch of trout lilies is still growing strong.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Cheryl, As I was composing a post on this very topic, yours was published, and touched my heart. It’s lovely, and I’m writing to ask if I might publish it on my blog, Poise and Presence, along with my post titled ‘Haste.’ Let me know, and a good Monday to you—

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Congrats on your publication, Cheryl 🙂 Since moving to a condo, I miss my garden. This time of year I’d be on the lookout for the first violets and daffodils. And the final snow would usually come just after they bloomed.

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  7. First, Cheryl, I am so sorry for the loss of your sister. And – as a somewhat odd follow-up to that – congratulations on being published in O.Henry magazine. I am so with you on what you wrote. My life, too, is so hectic and demanding, that I can gloss right over the little moments sometimes. I always try to be present and be in with those little things, but it can be a challenge. Thanks for the reminder. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Loved the story, Cheryl, and I can see why you feel so at home in nature. There are so many messages writers and thinkers can glean on how to live in a more considered and appreciative way. It flowed beautifully and then caught me in the throat when you got to your sister having died. It sounds like you had a special relationship. And the contrast to being in the moment with your sister and the lily versus the fast driving was great! So happy your cat is on the mend. And lastly, congratulations on your story being published in this nature magazine – a fitting place for it!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much for reading my essay, Lynne. Yes, my sister and I had a special relationship; she was also my best friend. I have two older sisters, but Reco was the closest in age to me, so we shared so many memories. When she died, I felt like I also lost all of my memories. Thanks so much for your comment. x

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